


The Night’s Reminiscence

by annerly



Category: Gintama
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Development, F/M, Period-Typical Sexism, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annerly/pseuds/annerly
Summary: The blanket of darkness in the night brings a certain comfort and call to recollect and reminiscence on the pure and innocent illusions of the past.[tumblr request story for an anon ask:  https://annerly-san.tumblr.com/post/624996077092962304/hi-i-just-wanted-to-say-that-i-love-your]
Relationships: Takasugi Shinsuke & Original Female Character(s), Takasugi Shinsuke/Original Character(s), Takasugi Shinsuke/You
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

Verdant grass blades swayed in the wind as the scent of bloomed cherry blossom flowers wafted about her. The lull of cicada thrills filled the air and beckoned the imminent arrival of summer.

It was warm.

She remembered the scratching and chaffing of the geta against her toes as she chased him. Her lungs would ache with each stretch of breath she took and her heart pounded in her chest so loudly that she could barely hear anything else. Out of breath, and out of reach, he always managed to evade her.

No matter how hard she ran to chase after him-- desperately seeking his attention and affection-- he would brush by the tips of her fingers and disappear from her sight.

Those piercing eyes of deep green were constantly fixated on something further ahead. They looked at something that was beyond her. Her naivety of childhood affections and innocent yearnings of the heart had once hopelessly wished to capture his gaze.

It was from a time that was much more peaceful and innocent. A time where she was of more pure heart. It was but a memory -- a recollection-- of the time she had her heart still intact.

Miyuki looked out from her window.

The lush countryside of her hometown was but a fleeting moment in the increasing industrialization that she saw beyond her window.

The gentle hills of the country were paved down and replaced with buildings of iron, steel and glass. The greenery of nature had long since been uprooted and covered with endless trails black asphalt and gray concrete. The wind, which had once carried the sweet scent of flowers and fruits in bloom, now gusted about with a nasty mixture of smoke, chemicals and toxins which devastated the lungs with an unfortunate breath.

The dull ache of her heart was not of forlorn yearning. Nor was it of sorrowful pain from a past long gone. No. She surmised that it was but the aftermath of a despairing resignation-- a loss of all hope and prospect for a future that she could call hers.

Her attention was not divided for long.

The sharp tapping of the door alerted her to the maid that was now entering her quarters, relaying her surprise at her mistress’s early rise.

The commentary on how excited she must be for her big day went in one ear and out of the other as Miyuki slipped her arms through the kimono that the maid held out for her.

On a usual day, Miyuki would have glared at anyone who held the tenacity to speak of the insufferable marriage arrangement between her and her fiance. A sharp tongue would have flicked out between her clenched teeth to chastise the imbecile who thought that a political marriage to the single most egoistical, spoilt and repugnant man to walk the streets of Edo.

The skin of her cheeks have grown thick-- accustomed to the slaps she received from her parents as reprimand for speaking ill of her soon-to-be husband. It was most unfortunate that the skin on the rest of her face had not developed the same density in a metaphorical sense. As much as she would much rather slit open her stomach and bleed to death rather than marry that abomination of a man, her wrists were tied and her mouth was gagged as she was practically sold off from her family as a political asset in order to gain some semblance of material wealth and power.

And now she stood in front of a mirror, watching as a veil of delicate blush was applied to her cheeks. She almost wished that the maid would apply at least five times the amount of makeup to cover her face as to mask the inevitable shame and to shield the remnants of her pride.

“Oh, my lady, you simply look wonderful!” The maid gushed as the last stroke of the makeup brush left Miyuki’s lips. “You’re the most beautiful woman in Edo!”

The mirror reflected a picturistic bride. Adorned in an elegant wedding kimono with her hair held back by clips made from gold and precious jewels, a woman that Miyuki refused to acknowledge stared at her with blank eyes.

“You’re soon to be married to a high government official! How wonderful!” The maid continued to gush incessantly as she escorted Miyuki to the palanquin that awaited her in the front of the manor. “To live a life of care-free and luxury-!”

The words, spoken by one who knew nothing of the torment and suffering that came adjunct to this union, scrapped at the pits of Miyuki’s stomach irritably as small ruptures of growing anger bubbled up within her.

Miyuki stepped into the palanquin and took her seat.

The interior-- ornamented with the highest quality wood, finest silks, metals and jewels-- enclosed about her like a prison. She felt herself being hoisted up into the air as the palanquin shook about with each step that the carriers took.

Out of the wooden bars of her transport, she stared past the bustling crowd of Edo’s common folk and back to the humble countryside of her past.

“Did you get hurt again?” She gingerly reached out towards him in comfort only to be slapped away.

The boy turned cheek and replied coyly. “Does it look like I’m hurt?”

His pride was clearly injured above all else.

His purple hair was disheveled and there was a swelling around one of his vibrant green eyes.

“No, but let me-”

“You’re annoying! Can’t you leave me alone, damn it!?”   
Despite the calming sting in her hands, she tenderly took her handkerchief -- soaked with clean spring water-- and blotted at the small scraps and scratches on the boy’s face.

He winced, but allowed for her to tend him. The unspoken permission blossomed into warmth in her heart.

“You’re really strong, Takasugi-kun.” She sang her praise for him as she carefully cleaned him of the blood and sweat he accumulated in a fight that he had gotten into.

Her parents would have been mortified to see how close she had gotten to the son of a lower class samurai family, but she didn’t care. The chastising, the meals forgone, the whips of bamboo sticks on her wrists-- she could tolerate them all.

Her family ran the prodigious military academy that Takasugi’s parents had sent him to. A single instance of him defeating a group of students which were making less than civil advances towards her made her heart tremor in her chest.

Her interest and affection for him sprouted then.

Miyuki would always follow him around and watch him. The way that he swung his sword around was mesmerizing for her to watch.

She would often sneak and watch him behind a tree or bush or gaze out the window of her room to hopefully spot him around and about in the academy.

When she finished her calligraphy lessons, she would find him to ask for him to show her the new sword techniques that he learned that day.

He called her annoying often and chastised her a great deal for bothering him even more so.

And even as he often yelled at her, called her annoying, and chastised her for running about and not being a proper lady as she should be, she never once felt upset or offended.

She was simply content with the fact that she managed to get him -- the object of her love and admiration-- to look her way even for just the briefest of moments.

  
  


The palanquin came to a halt and the heavy silk screen was lifted up to reveal a reel of carpet rolled out on the floor for her to step upon.

She could already hear the bustle of the crowd that her fiance had gathered as a means to shamelessly show off to uncaring spectators.

A familiar hand held itself out as a means to prompt her to take it.

She dejectedly placed her hand in the hand of her father’s as she stepped outside.

The cheers enveloped her senses as she was escorted towards the shrine where her soon-to-be husband stood.

Her father leaned in as to whisper in her ear. “This is your contribution to the family. Stand straight. Stand proud.” Those words were not meant as praise. The underlying threat in her father’s tone was clear. Perhaps he was being civil today for once as he didn’t bring mention of “being a disgrace” or “being a worthless woman” up as a means to stab at her esteem. She wanted to slouch further but decided to not press her luck when the grip on her hand tightened to the point of near bruising.

Her father was a ruthless man.

It was to be expected from the head of a military academy. But only she bore the callous treatment that her father gave. She spotted her mother and younger brother standing near the front; her mother’s head held high and tilted up in a snobbish manner, and her brother had the most bored look on his face not bothering to hide the fact that he could not care to be present.

To think that the sole reason that their family was able to remain intact was solely due to the fact of her marriage.

The sudden change and worth that she held as well as the lack of choice and will in this matter made her hands ball up in a seething frustration.

Despite being the eldest, she was often discredited for the sole fact of being a woman.

At her birth, the instant that her father discovered her gender, he immediately sought out to produce another heir in hopes of raising a son.

And so, soon after her, a son was borne to the household.

While he was showered with undeserving praise for the slightest of things and held the affections of both parents in the palm of his hands, she suffered neglect and abuse.

It was not uncommon for her to hear from both parents on how worthless she was and how lucky she would be if she was able to be married off to an affluent family.

Both parents told her frequently that if she was to get on her brother’s good graces, perhaps he would be willing to provide a free spot in the inherited manor for her to housekeep and watch over his offspring.

Her brother knew that she was told of such things. And he took advantage of it.

Often berating her or even physically bullying her-- pulled out hair and bruised cheeks-- no one in the house showed her any semblance of kindness nor respect of a human being.

How funny it was that it was her to get them out of the troubles that plagued them upon the Amanto’s invasion.

With the military academy being effectively shut down as a result of the sword ban, the esteem that the house had once held was shattered into dust.

It was a fitting justice for those who despicably held onto that power and used it to prey upon the weak.

But as the house fell into ruin, a high ranking Bafuku official had taken interest in Miyuki and wished to court her. In return, the household would be brought out from ruin and financial woes.

Despite having the power to change the tides for her family, they treated her no better.

Her adamant refusals to go humor the official with dates resulted in beatings that included kimono sleeves and layers of makeup that would just barely conceal evidence of abuse.

Her attempts of escape led to recapture with padlocked doors and chains on her legs.

Her attempts to simply leave the world led to an uncomfortably intolerable surveillance of her actions for every second of each day she spent in captivity.

And now, powerless, she stood before the man whom she held no affections nor care towards as she nodded and agreed to his vows to become his until death do they part.

And as she felt the press of his lips against hers, she felt the last bit of hope and defiance in her disintegrate into oblivion as the vows between the two of them were sealed.

Miyuki stared blankly ahead as the food and festivities of the wedding began. Her now husband placed a kiss on her cheek for which she could not muster even a look of disgust for.

The music and noise of the party were lost to her as she herself grew lost in her reminiscence of what once was, not caring for the unwelcomed hand of her husband that was now intertwined with hers.

  
  


As a young girl, she could never hold, much less practice, with the sword. It was ironic despite her family hailing from a military background and running an academy to train the new generation.

Her fascination with the sword and learning from it manifested through her admiration of Takasugi.

Her eyes would observe his stance and swing with an intense curiosity, her own hands gripping a calligraphy brush or a flower stem and replicating his moves to its exact arc and velocity.

She was stricken with sorrow when she came across news that Takasugi left the dojo to study under the tutelage of someone else.

She did not grieve for long.

When she had snuck out to trail him after he had left his house one day, she stumbled across the school of Shouka Sonjuku.

Her eyes followed Takasugi in amazement as she watched him spar with another silver haired kid -- wide smile on his face.

Even as he was struck down and lost the round, he looked the happiest she had ever seen him look before. She secretly watched him bicker with the student and teacher before finally leaving.

Trailing him quietly as he walked on the road back toward home, she noticed the cut on his hand and without a second thought rushed over to him in a state of concern.

“Y-you!” She had startled him.

“Are you ok? You’re hurt!” She immediately took out her handkerchief to wrap around his hand only to be slapped away-- the fabric falling to the ground.

He immediately began to storm off. “Don’t follow me!”

“A-ah, wait!” She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his arm.

He spun around in annoyance-- eyes glistening with distrust and hostility.

“You’re going to tell my parents aren’t you? Like the goody two-shoes that you are!” The words he spoke had barbs that stung the flesh. But Miyuki paid the pain no mind.

“N-no!” Miyuki exclaimed in protest. “I-I got worried about you since you weren’t coming to the academy…” She picked up the spoiled handkerchief from the ground and looked back up at him. “I-I won’t tell anyone! I promise!”

His eyes scrutinized her as her heart fluttered from him looking at her directly like this for the first time.

“...tsk…” He grabbed her hand and spun around to walk back home-- pulling at her arm and walking at a pace with no regards to her.

As she stumbled in a breathy run to match his pace, she was unbelievably over the moon that her hand was intertwined in his.

  
  


The virtues of two people holding hands as viewed by a child are often perceived as pure and untainted. The memory faded out of mind as she was brought back to the reality that was the honeymoon suite that her husband had rented out for the both of them to consummate their first night together.

Her husband’s hands slipped around her, tugging at the kimono caring not about the integrity of the expensive cloth that covered her. 

“My wife…” her husband’s whispers were low as he uttered that hateful title she now bore into the crevice of her neck. She felt warm and wet traces trail across her neck and back knowing full well that there would be unsightly marks in the places where it lingered.

She passively stood there, her own hands placed atop his roaming ones as they traced paths up and down her body-- lingering in places of particular interest.

The mannerisms of her treatment made her realize the extent of which she was considered and treated as a tool.

Her past self would have toyed with the notion of love in marriage and the yielding of oneself as an act of declaring eternal love for one another.

But as she faced the reality she was in, there was no such thing as love.

She knew that now as the grip on her arms and legs were tight enough to hurt her and the blatant disregard for her comfort was evident in the drawing of blood as a result of viciously left bite marks and scratches.

She was foolish to once think that she could ever receive love.

Takasugi was never a man that she could even hope to love.

But her heart back then refused to accept that reality and only ever pour its love out endlessly for him.

Reality was cruel.

If her heart dreamed and beat to the rhythm of a fairytale, her eyes would at the very least open one day to see the truth.

That night was clear.

She could see the stars -- infinitesimal in the sky. She wondered if she would be able to see them reflect in his eyes when he came to see her. She wondered how many strands of his purple hair she could count as they tosseled in the warm and gentle breeze of a midsummer’s night.

Miyuki stood underneath the cedar tree overlooking the river’s bed. The ambient sounds of nature lulled her into a peace of mind as she listened for the sound of footsteps amongst the buzzing of cicadas, the rushing of water against rocks and the chirping of crickets.

She had left home to find him. For once, she could seek freedom and happiness on her own terms. And she wanted to find it with him.

He had gone off to fight in the Joui war. It was perhaps the kindness -- or cruelness-- of fate that allowed them to meet once more.

“Would you give me an answer?” Her voice was shaking as she poured out her confession of love for him. “I-I’ll wait for you at the top of the hill overlooking the river.” She pointed at the lone cedar tree on the hill nearby before anxiously looking up to meet his eyes.

The unit that he led graciously let her through to speak with him in addition to having enough tact to leave personal space for the two of them to speak.

She would be content with anything. She’d follow him into the army to help as a nurse or helping hand if he wished. She would wait somewhere in the promise of his return from the war -- praying for his victory and luck. Anything. She would do anything for him.

But affections needed to be mutual.

Miyuki knew this.

The smallest corner of her rational mind compelled her to ask him. Ask if he returned her love.

Whether he did or didn’t, her love for him must accept that. She loved him enough to love him from afar. She loved him enough to ask for nothing in return.

Her heart trembled in fear and excitement as she stared up into the sky waiting for him to arrive.

She wondered if she should have specified a time.

Her legs eventually grew tired from standing on the incline of a hill and she resigned to sitting down-- leaning against the tree trunk for support.

As the moon traversed overhead and the stars spun around and about the sky, she waited.

Until the dawn broke and the sun rose high into the sky, she continued to sit there.

Day waned into night again, and she silently thanked her family for not feeding her at times-- otherwise she would have to sit up and potentially miss him if he came by.

The pure, innocent hope of her love overrode the disparaging crackles of her heart as her eyelids grew heavy. Miyuki thought that hopefully she could wake up just before Takasugi arrived so that she wouldn’t embarrass herself by sleeping so awkwardly.

But when she awoke, she found herself back in the manor of her home. Confined to her room as punishment for running away, she despaired over how he might have been looking for her on that hilltop.

And on the tenth day of confinement in her room as she was remembering all the things she loved about him, did she have to force herself to realize that never once did he look at her with the same adoration as she did with him. Only then did she finally open her eyes to realize that he would have never come to find her on that hilltop in the first place. That he would never love her.

As she gripped the sheets of her bed, body driven into the bed with each careless and sloppy thrust of her husband’s hips -- pain and aches resonating throughout her body as sweat beaded on her forehead-- she knew that she would never be loved.

Her dreams of freedom, her hopes of love and her wishes of respect are all but an illusion that she had so carefully wrapped herself in to distract her from the painful truth that those were things unattainable for her.

Miyuki stared out at the foggy night sky-- barely making out the dull shine of the moon beneath the clouds.

This would be the last night in a long time that she would ever reminiscence on a more innocent time of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

The bed beside her was cold as she awoke.

There was a dull ache ringing in her lower abdomen and thighs as she winced from the pain of bruises that she had unknowingly put weight against.

The bitterness and anger of last night did not dissipate any as she was still left with a foul taste on her tongue and a seething rage that burned in her chest.

Miyuki’s attention was brought forward when she heard an attendant enter her room with medicinal herbs to provide the aftercare of last night’s atrocities while commending her on the insufferable union between her and her now husband.

She swore that she would pay back her pain and humiliation to each and every offender by tenfold one day.

She was dressed in an extravagant kimono-- a far nicer one than that her family could have afforded back then. But the design was gaudy.

Clashing colors that fought each other for dominance painted a messy and over-the-top image of herself. She looked like a peacock that had been dipped in colorful dyes and made to strut across town to portray some grandiose ideal that not a single person cared for.

“Do we not have any other robes in the closet?” she asked her attendant.

“I apologize, my lady. His lordship specifically requested that you wear this one to accompany him to a luncheon this afternoon.”

The sun’s position in the sky and the intensity of its rays made it clear that the event was only a couple of hours away. Miyuki let out a sigh-- no longer attempting to hide her distaste and frustration at the lack of freedom in choosing her own clothes.

She would be made to accompany her husband and be a side-piece to whoever had the absolute misfortune to deal with him in business today.

The ugly fact of the matter rearing its nasty head made her stomach clench with further frustration.

She was a doll. A doll for her husband to dress up, haul around and show off to others as a means to stroke his ego during the day, and she would be nothing but a pretty plaything that would serve as an outlet for his sexual needs and frustrations at night.

The cloth around her shoulders weighed her down like chains that shackled her to this miserable fate.

  
  


“Congratulations, my lord!” Miyuki watched as the lower-ranking government officials tried to butter up her husband. “Your wife is absolutely stunning!”

She bowed her head as a sign of thanks, but her true intention was to avert her eyes to the ground to spare them the repose of having to look at the blinding embodiment of pride and greed that was this afternoon gathering.

Her right arm was looped around her husband’s left as she was essentially dragged around and forced to smile and greet each and every last one of the filthy and corrupt officials that her husband wished to flaunt her with.

They finally took a seat at a table for which afternoon tea and snacks would be served.

She watched in mild relief as the servants carried out trays of plump mochi and steaming tea. The trays, cups and plates were carefully placed against the glossy surface of the table in front of her.

But Miyuki did not have the luxury of indulging in the sweet treats.

She stared in confusion as her husband slid his teacup towards her.

She blinked.

And blinked again.

Did he expect her to pour his tea for him? Like some sort of cheap entertainer?

“Miyuki?” Her name sounded from that vile mouth of his with a degrading tone disguised as a light-hearted tease.

Her teeth clenched as her fingers shook in anger as she grabbed ahold of the teapot.

Her eyes and mind flashed and played with the image of scalding her partner in marriage with the hot tea before bashing his head in with the ceramic pot, but she knew better.

The bright, translucent green tea poured from the pot’s spout and into the cup.

Not a single indication of gratitude was imparted to her as she handed the cup to him. In fact, the man had the tenacity to hand her the cups of his co-workers and superiors to further demolish her pride.

The snacks and tea were gone by the time she was made to fill and refill each one of the cups placed in front of her.

Miyuki swore that she would have choked on anything she attempted to eat or drink since her teeth and throat were clenched so tight with pure spite and anger.

Had her stomach not been filled with boiling hatred, she would have bitten the head off of her abhorrently intolerable husband to fill the void that the lack of breakfast and lunch had left in her body. She wasn’t sure whether to attribute the discomfort and growing pains in her belly to sheer anger or immense starvation.

At least dinner was arriving soon.

But dinner was no better.

She spilled the sake she was holding when her husband made a horrifically degrading comment to his boss at the dinner table.

“I’m afraid that I can’t join you for at least another day!” the man laughed as he beckoned for Miyuki to fill up his boss’s sake cup for the fifth time that night. “While the temptations of Yoshiwara are irresistibly alluring, I need to at least keep my wife company for another night before I can go out for a night of entertainment elsewhere!”

The tenacity of men! Her mouth was gaping wide enough to dislocate her jaw. Her vision flashed red and her breath was absolutely lost.

Miyuki set the bottle down on the table and sat down at her seat-- fuming as she watched the two men laugh and banter with filthy jokes that trampled over the esteem of herself and other women.

One day.

One day she will cut out that revolting tongue of his. She would slit his throat and watch him bleed to death, but not before dismembering each and every one of his limbs and sticking them into the various orifices of his body.

She stared at the untouched plate of food in front of her before grabbing her chopsticks and reaching for a single piece of tempura that was growing cold.

“Shouldn’t you be watching your weight, dear?”

Her chopsticks didn’t even touch the fried crumb of the breading when those words were heard.

She heard the boss chuckle as the two men made further remarks on her weight and how she should be keeping slim as to not lose her husband’s attention to some oiran in the red light district.

Miyuki set her chopsticks down.

Her stomach was plenty full.

Full from all the bullshit and crap that she had to deal with today.

As she laid in bed-- starfished and not giving a damn about entertaining her insufferable husband-- she cursed everything.

She cursed this society that crippled her. She cursed her lack of strength to grab ahold of her own freedom. She cursed her family for chaining her to this horrible man that degraded her and trampled all over her pride and body.

She cursed it all.

And she swore to destroy it.

While her husband slept after haphazardly shooting once and retiring for the rest of the night, she stared out at the night sky with absolute clarity and undeterrable intent.

This accursed society. These accursed people.

She would be the one that tramples them all into the dust.

Miyuki smiled to herself as she watched the moon peek out from the clouds.

She basked in its light.

One day. Soon.

She would revel in the glory of watching the faces of those pathetic worms plea for mercy that she would never give as she destroyed each and every one of them.

There would be nothing spared from her wrath.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for that nice anon that liked my Takasugi x Reader one-shot that I wrote a whole four years ago and submitted an ask for a longer story featuring an OC (https://annerly-san.tumblr.com/post/624996077092962304/hi-i-just-wanted-to-say-that-i-love-your)  
> I apologize for the back and forth on flashing back between memory and present. Hopefully, your necks are alright from the whiplash.  
> Since this is a request for a longer story, please stay tuned for more!


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